Broken Prodigy
by Paradox.bookjunkie
Summary: Drarry. Draco realizes that the Golden Boy is a little more like him than he realized.


**Title: **_**Broken Prodigy**_

**Disclaimer: All you recognize is of course JKR's.**

**Pairing: Drarry**

**Character(s): Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Walburga Black, Kreacher**

**Prompt(s): Shatter**

**Rating: K+**

**Word Count: 725**

…

**Written for: Myself**

**Challenger: Myself**

…

Why the bloody hell do I have to stay with _Potter_?" He turned viciously towards his mother who put her hands up soothingly.

"Draco, it's only a few days, and he's not that bad -" Draco cut her off.

"Not that bad? _Not that bad_! Mother, you were ready to sell him to the Dark Lord when Greyback -" Narcissa put her hand, silencing him.

"Things have changed." she said shortly. She had never told her son about the incident between herself and Harry in the forest during the war, though she didn't know exactly why. "Are your things packed, Draco?" He bit the inside of his cheek, turning his head away with a curt nod.

She could see the anger and frustration carved into his pointed features, and she sighed with resignation.

He would forgive her.

In time.

...

An ugly, bent house elf met them at the door.

"Master Malfoy, shall I take your things?" the old thing croaked, while he helped Narcissa with her cloak.

"No," he said shortly. "I should like to take them up to my room myself." he didn't want the horrid ting searching through his bags.

"Well, look at that." a voice he would recognize from anywhere said slowly behind him. "People _can_ change." he turned to see Potter, leaning against the doorway. His hair was sticking up at all angles, and he could see the slight shade of an unshaven chin.

"And some never do," he raised his eyebrows coldly at the man.

"Now, now, is that anyway for a changed man to greet an old friend?" Potter grinned, sticking out an arm, as if he would actually consider _touching_ the Golden Boy. He just stared at him, and pushed rudely past his hand into the dark hall. "Don't-" Potter started quickly. The floor creaked beneath him, and suddenly a pair of curtains flew open.

"SON OF A MUDBLOOD! IN MY HOUSE! I TELL YOU YOU SHOULD RUE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN! YOU STINK AS THOUGH YOU WERE BORN IN A SEWER, AND I'M SURE YOUR MOTHER'S HOUSE -" Potter pushed in front of him, almost knocking him onto the floor, and seized the curtains.

It was a portrait of an exceedingly ugly pale woman with black hair.

"Shut up you old hag!" he shouted, fighting to pull the curtains closed. The room rang with the sudden silence, and Potter shot a crooked grin at Draco. "Maybe in the future you'll listen."

Draco just sneered at him and kissed his mother good bye.

"You'll be fine," She looked up at him reassuringly.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Tell Potter that."

Narcissa laughed, and opened the door.

"Oh, and Harry? Thank you. Again."

Golden Boy smiled almost sadly, and Draco thought he saw a look pass between the two of them. He shook it off.

When the door closed, leaving the pair by themselves, Draco turned to Potter.

"I think I'm going to turn in early." he said.

Potter shrugged. "Have it your way. If you get hungry during the night, feel free to search the fridge. There should be something to eat in there."

Even though his stomach felt like it was about to commit mutiny if there was anymore mention of food, Draco dragged himself into the - his - bedroom where he would be staying and flopped down on the bed, his hands behind his head.

_Just a week_, he thought sleepily as he drifted off to sleep.

_Pain._

_So much pain._

_Blinding, white hot pain._

_He couldn't get away from it._

_Screams pierced the air around him._

_Who's were they?_

_High cackles filled the air around him_

_He wanted it to stop._

_Just stop!_

_Who's screams were those?_

_Bellatrix's face appeared before him._

_"Why, Draco," she purred. "They are yours, dear."_

A hand clapped down on his mouth and he jerked awake. He stared into a pair of emerald green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Potter's voice was soothing, soft.

Draco nodded.

"You have nightmares too?" he asked quietly.

He stared at this boy he thought he had figured out, this man that sat in the moonlight.

The Golden Boy.

He, him of all people, had nightmares?

Draco nodded again, running his hands through his hair.

"Yes."

Suddenly, Draco felt alright.

He knew he was safe, with this broken prodigy.

A shattered man.

Just like him.


End file.
